A Cunning Snake Revisited
by Reallybored2
Summary: Harry meets the darkest Dark Lord of them all.
1. Chapter 1

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**Disclaimer:** If you believe I own anything here, then there is a bridge in Brooklyn, New York I'll like to sell you! In other words, I own NOTHING HERE! Joss Whedon and his group own all things _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_. J K Rowlings created and wrote _Harry Potter_-And that is why she's a billionaire!

Boy, oh, boy . . .Do I feel maudlin today. Been reading too many of those Poor Harry Angsty stories. For good or bad I felt like adding my own . . .The only thing I hope is that it won't suck too much. And, although, there is some parody (some subtly, and some Hit-Over-The-Head-With-A-Mallet stuff) this story is not a comedy-It's a _Buffy_ story and somewhat dark. Looking through my old stories I came to the decision to add to my story '_A Cunning Snake_'. But not as an extra chapter, instead I decided to keep the first story as a stand alone, and write another separate adventure for Buffy.

So, here it is. I hope you're entertained by it!

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Harry meets the most famous Dark Lord of all.

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A Cunning Snake Revisited

The day started off as a completely normal day. For starters, sunlight had somehow managing to slip past her eyelids, while her ears rang with an abominable, but oh so familiar, noise. Buffy woke up to the sun lighting up her bedroom, and her surviving alarm clock ringing away. After a Slayer glare at the offending device, and oh, so _gently_, pressing down on the off button, Buffy grudgingly got up, stretched, yawned and padded off to the bathroom, emerging refreshed and clean with a previously missing bounce to her step. Her clothing, hair and makeup followed-Buffy took a few minutes to decide on accessories-Coordinating everything with her shoes, naturally. Afterwards, Buffy hurried downstairs, greeted her mother, Joyce, and vacuumed up her breakfast (One of the most important meals of the day!) and dashed out the door with a bright, cheerful, "See you later, mom!". Her mother returning, "Love you, Honey. Have a good day!" followed Buffy down the street.

The rest of the school day was predictable-She met up with Willow and Xander, endured Cordelia's snark and the Cordettes' sneers. (Ugh! Like there was anything _really_ original there!) Snyder the troll predicted a dim future and rained his usual contempt on her and just about everyone else. The classes? Hmmm, Buffy admitted sleeping through many of them. Good thing Willow was willing to share her excellent class notes. Later, Xander expressed his love for The All Great Twinkie. Complete with grand expansive gestures and, ewww, loving caresses. When he planted loving gentle kisses on the soft, yellow pastries before biting into them, his disturbing behavior somehow reminded Buffy of the new lipstick she was planing on buying-Kind of expensive, but beauty costs and all of that. Giles was in his library and said stuff-Buffy was certain of it . . .only, all Buffy could recall was that it sounded like, "Waah, blah, waah, Buffy, waah, blah, waah, Buffy."-But with a really tweedy accent.

She stretched the school day with Giles in the library, taking a satisfying turn at pounding her Watcher into a painful daze during a sparing session. Then leaving the older man to nurse his battered ego and bruises, Buffy contently and confidently strolled down the school's empty corridors, the sounds her shoes' soles and heels were making echoed in the emptiness (That reminded Buffy; she had to learn the name of the newest school custodian. Happily, unlike his predecessors who usually ended up in the back dumpster, either whole or in incomplete pieces, the last one had a sudden saving epiphany; he turned in his resignation, and then turned himself in to the Immigration people for a free ticket back home.) Empty, that was, until she sensed _them_-Not quite Human, but not demonic either. Yet, with a strange, confusing demonic taint to them. Hmmmm . . .

Curious, Buffy waited for the attack she knew was coming. Since usually it was all like, badness comes, sense badness, badness attacks. When the flying chair came hurling at her, Buffy lazily dodged it. See? Just like that. The chair crashed into the wall behind her with a loud noise, taking chips of plaster out of the wall! Ha! Chortling, Buffy's inner Slayer rose up-And immediately dodged a teacher's desk, and two student desks simultaneously thrown at her head. The heavy wooden table-the top deeply gouged, scratched and tagged by pens, markers, and miscellaneous sharp ended items wielded by generations of bored students-created a wide and deep indentation in the wall behind Buffy, skidded to a stop against another wall and dislodged a huge chunk of plaster upon contact. Idly, Buffy wondered where they had dragged out the table from; it looked vaguely familiar.

"Buffy!"

"Holy crap!"

"Hi, guys!" She cheerfully chirped out to her two best friends in Sunnydale. Buffy was not at all surprise at their appearance-Especially not Xander; he had a habit of showing up when least expected. As for their actual physical appearance . . .Xander and Willow were so close together they were practically clutching each other, as they crept closer to Buffy, their wide, frightened eyes darting around trying to discover the source of the flying furniture. Buffy kept her friends within the peripheral of her vision, devoting the majority of her attention to the still unseen Whatever attacking her.

"Hey, guys . . .What'cha doing here? I thought the plan was we were going to meet up at the Bronze, after patrol?" Buffy asked, lightly, keeping her eyes moving around the deceptively empty corridor, wondering how the hell things were materializing out of thin air. She had been staring straight at the empty spot that large, heavy table had come hurling out from. Truth be told, she had been getting a slight, bit anxious, and had been considering a retreat back to the library. Now with Xander and Willow . . .Maybe running back to the library was the smarter option.

"Uh, yeah, we were, but Willow here needed to ask Giles something." Xander explained.

"Ah, ah, I, I just wanted to see if Giles could help me with an Egyptian Middle Kingdom translation," Willow breathed. In one hand she clutched a stake, and in the other, an open bottle of water-Holy water. Unconventional weapons retrieved from some hidden area on her body.

"So, what do we have here, Buffy?" Said Xander, waving a stake that came from somewhere in his oversized Hawaiian shirt. "A ghost? A poltergeist? Do we need Giles in on this?"

"Haven't got a clue what they are. No ghost. No poltergeist. And don't know yet." Buffy replied, briefly. She noticed an approaching blur of color.

"Duck!" She commanded. Buffy grabbed their arms and pulled the two teens down as a bench flew through the space where their heads had been! Buffy sprung up again and faced the empty hallway, her friends crouched down behind her-Okay, Buffy told herself, getting angry now, her playful mood dissipating, that was too close . . .Need to wrap everything up before anyone-anyone Human that was-got hurt! If necessary, she could provide a distraction, and Xander and Willow could (hopefully) reach the dubious safety of the library.

Buffy swept the area around her with her senses again. Sadly, only getting back much the same as she had before.

_Ah, damn . . .The hard way then . . ._She swore.

Outwardly, Buffy smirked, prepared herself, and tauntingly called out-"Is that all you got?"

Silly little Slayer-She really should have known not to do that.

Suddenly, a life size cardboard cut out of Snyder, in full detail and bright color, wearing only a tiny, teeny, bright red speedo, and a biiiig smile on his face, appeared in front of her!

Buffy froze in disbelieving wide burning eyed horror! No fair! NO FAIR!

_Oh, God! Nooooo!_

"God! Make it stop! Make it stop!" Someone screamed. Xander? Willow? Buffy noted her own throat was spasming shut. Air, she silently gasped. Need air!

_*Thump-thwack!*_

The sudden flaring pain in the back of Buffy's head spread . . .along side the quickly enveloping darkness. She could feel her unresponsive body falling and the brief, relatively minor flair of pain when she hit the floor with a heavy loud thump. Regret and fear for her friends surged through at the last when the screams were abruptly cut off and two new thumps followed hers. _Ah, damn . . .Xander . . .Willow . . .Sorry . . ._Was Buffy's last conscious thought.

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It was a baseball. She was hit by a thrown baseball. Buffy came to that conclusion when she regained painful, head throbbing consciousness. Baseball, yep, definitely. Her eyes remained closed, but her other senses had snapped to immediate information gathering. The cold metal, wrapped tightly around her slender wrists and ankles burned slightly with magical energy. What? Rope too good for them? Buffy thought exasperated. Whatever happened to tradition? Tying up the plucky heroine with copious length of rope until she was practically buried in thick coils of restricting fiber? But noooooo . . .They had to toss the ol' try and true and go for the manacles and shackles route! Bespelled stuff, too-Bastards!

Stabbing pain pulled Buffy back from her own personal mental Wonderland. No good comes from walking down that side road, Buffy sternly warned herself, dimming her indignation. Distractions momentarily held at bay, Buffy returned to sightlessly examining her surroundings. Low, nearly inaudible moans reached Buffy, coming from an area to the left and slightly below her. Buffy _knew_ those moans! She had heard those particular sounds many, many times before . . .Relief and gratitude flowed through Buffy-They were alive! Xander and Willow were still alive! Buffy mentally whooped joyfully. And hopefully, she thought with an internal wince, only a little bit damaged.

_Okay! Now, she could just . . .Uh-oh._ _Wards? What the hell? Dammit! Just what she needed-A smart enemy! No Apparating, then . . .Hey! What the-?_ Startled, Buffy abruptly noticed _what else_ had been done to her-The defenses around her mystical core had been breached! There was a small, tiny, pinprick hole drilled into her mystical core, and it was slowly, steadily draining her mystical energies away from her. Outraged, Buffy realized they were using her as a battery! What for? Hmmmm,Buffy had to get back to that . . .Current business first. She mentally 'healed' the breach and checked for other damages-Within a moments time Buffy mentally wrote herself a Good News, Bad News report: good news, she was undamaged; bad news, the bastards had grabbed enough of her energies to make a quick getaway by Apparating impossible! Even without the damn wards, they were still stuck for at least the next fifteen or twenty minutes, the time Buffy estimated she was going to need for her to recover the missing energy!

And going by experience, Buffy knew the Big Bads were never going to give her those necessary few extra minutes. Damn, so much for the easy way . . .She had to think of another way.

Forcing herself to momentarily ignore her friends, Buffy focused on her surroundings-The smell of incense, wood smoke, chanting . . .Ah, the chanting. And the blood and urine and fecal smell that came with death relaxing bladder and sphincter muscles. So familiar . . .Buffy felt a small wave of relief wash over her-It was good to be back on familiar ground. Regardless of the not quite demonic beings Buffy was certain were in the middle of a ritual with herself and the gang as the blood sacrifice.

A change in tempo in the chanting cued Buffy-_Show time!_ She thought sardonically. A sudden surge of magical energy to the cuffs and shackles, and the binding metal jumped free of her wrists and ankles!

She only had a fraction of a moment to see she and the Scoobies had been placed on a double tier, gray stone altar, with the Scoobies on the lower platform. Unlike herself, they were unbound-But they were unconscious, but breathing!

Buffy leaped up with a spinning kick, Slayer strength granting a caved in face and broken neck to a backward flying body! The large, heavy corpse bowling into a dense crowd of dozens of chanting worshippers. Creepy thing about it all, Buffy reflected, not a single one stopped chanting . . .She watched as dozens of pairs of blood red, pulsating eyes focused on her; long fangs ran with drool and claws flexed.

_Ah, hell_ . . .Buffy jumped up into the air, rotated a couple of times, somersaulting, landing in the space provided by her fleshy battering ram. Her fists and feet thudding into wrinkled, rawhide strength skin, as her slender body was immediately buried under a heaving, noisy pile of non-Humans, non-demonic, pointy eared _smelly_ beings!

_Whoa! Tough hides, huh?_ And her manicured, pink tinted, fingers pierced straight through a couple of eyeballs. Hot optical fluid gushed out and splattered her hands. The bottom of her palm hit a long, sharp nose hard enough to flatten it and send bone shards up into soft brain tissue-Buffy felt uncomfortably hot blood splatter on her. Her elbows snaked back like pistons, driving themselves into throats, crushing airways-Oh, and incidentally, _silencing_ those damn chants! Her feet kicked out and caved in kneecaps, stomped down on bare feet crushing bones. Her knees came up hard between legs damaging or destroying soft tissue.

The writhing, fleshy pile Buffy was under, heaved once, heaved twice, then exploded outwards! Buffy snarled, her eyes incandescent, glowing hot and bright with Power and fury. Griped in her right hand was a long dagger with a black handle, the blade glowing softly with a venomous green light; she struck out with the blade, catching and cutting into tough flesh; each contacted followed by bubbling hissing sounds of liquefying flesh. The chants turned to screams, as each cut allowed the potent poison deeper access into the body, liquefying organs, veins, and bones, boiling and steaming blood and tissue.

Suddenly, a powerful red light exploded into existence!

Her eyes and head jerked up to the altar and caught the figure of one of the creatures hovering above Willow, torchlight gleaming off the edge of the long knife it was hold over Willow's chest! A few feet away, above and to the side of the altar, was a pulsating, twisting cube of malicious red energy.

With a deafening howl of rage, Buffy extended her hand and a blast of pure magical energy ripped out the knife-wielding arm, right out of its shoulder socket! The blood gushing screaming body was hurled straight into the red cub of light. The body was immediately absorbed, and the cube began to expand!

Without wasting time, Buffy hurled herself forward, towards her friends' unconscious bodies. She landed on the altar over her friends' bodies, and raised the best shield she could with the energy reserves she was left with!

At that point, a sudden explosion released destructive, overwhelming heat and light into the chamber! Buffy gasped as a giant fist grasped her core and squeezed and pulled-Her pain was so immense that she could only feel gratitude at her failing consciousness, and the familiar darkness that came with it.

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For a while, there was nothing . . .A loud whooshing sound abruptly intruded on the blanket of silence covering her. Buffy heard the normal 'thud' of her heart, and decided the accompanied breathing was pretty nice, too! Tactile sensation followed, and the annoying feeling of gravel digging into her back, vied with oddly echoing traffic noise and the loud scream of jet engines in flight. When Buffy opened her eyes, she saw the white contrail scar of a passing plane on a blue sky. With an experienced eye, Buffy noted the Sun was slightly too dim for California, and the air too cool for the season; the concentration of pollutants was unlikely for a town the size of Sunnydale. LA, without a doubt, but that city, underneath the stench of everyday Modern City life, had the taint of desert and the far off ocean. What Buffy smelled and sensed was the hint of a large body of fresh water moving nearby.

Not in California, then. Not in California, Buffy repeated to herself, masking her panic and fear with annoyance. If not in good ol' Sunnyhell, California, then where?

Moaning and a coughing gasp somewhere next to her, jerked Buffy up to a sitting position. She turned her head and guiltily noted the stirring bodies of her friends. The little blonde did a quick diagnostic check on her Mystical core and discovered herself fully recharged; and that knowledge brought about relief and worries about the length of time they had been unconscious.

"Oh . . .oooh," Willow whimpered. The red head, her hands splayed straight out, weakly flailed her arms and legs about. Xander, unconscious next to her, bizarrely enough mimicked her actions. She squinted at them suspiciously and quickly drew her wand and pointed it at them.

A quick diagnostic spell thrown on their reawakening bodies assured Buffy her friends were _physically_ alright. Relaxing somewhat, Buffy holstered her wand, got up the rest of the way, and waited for them to wake up on their own, and hoping their strange behavior was not a sign of something worse.

Cocking her head to the side, and squinting, Buffy considered them and winced. Willow was wearing clothing dyed in greens, browns and tans. And Xander was wearing a light green pair of pants, instead of his usual jeans, with his usual gaudy, eye blinding Hawaiian shirt. Their clothing, combined with their current condition and actions, made them look like, like . . . Buffy inhaled and held her breath for a moment, before exhaling sharply, unable to stop herself from thinking they looked like a couple of paddling frogs! Xander in his vomit shirt, a colorful tree frog. An observation Buffy was certain Willow would _never_ appreciate.

Uh, Buffy was certain Willow's current fashion was her mother's fault-Sheila, sans Ira, had come back to Sunnydale, in one of her rare home visits. Willow was tense and nervous, dropping things and babbling apologies throughout the day. No doubt, a reaction to Sheila's motherly, accepting presence, Buffy considered with sardonic contempt. Buffy felt her eyes roll around in their sockets. Dressing your kid, who had a serious frog phobia, to subtly resemble a frog . . .Seriously, who does that? Oh, yeah, Sheila! The Slayer considered the mother of her best friend in disgust. The woman goes AWOL for the majority of the year, reappears to do sporadic spot checks on her kid, all that while demanding and expecting Willow to abandon her hard won independence, and defer to her mother in everything and anything. Hell! That house was _Willow's_ house, _Willow's_ home, having lived there her entire life! Ira and Sheila just visit when the whim hits them. Obviously the woman had no respect for her child. Buffy snickered of her solution to the problem-Sheila had bolted out of Sunnydale just about midday, after being hexed into seeing dancing fruit, in kilts, doing an aggressive Can-Can number. Ha, ha! Booh-ya! Another one for the Buffster! Naturally, Willow must never know.

Now, if only she could discover an explanation for Xander's shirts . . .

Confident, her friends were in no immediate danger, Buffy calmly strolled over to the roof edge, gravel crunching under her feet, and curiously looked down-And immediately had her eyes pulled to the flapping British Union Jack hanging from a horizontal pole above a storefront. On the heavily used narrow street, a couple of red double Decker buses competed aggressively against vehicles, that to her American eyes, were too small and narrow. Oh, and traffic was going the wrong way.

But the completely justifiable cause for Buffy's explosion of foul curses was a small, dark shoddy building, covered with a sheet of bright energy. Her Slayer eyesight saw the sign and the name too clearly-'The Leaky Cauldron'.

Here you go . . .I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry to say I don't know when the next chapter will appear. However, I did write an alternative ending to this chapter featuring Dobby. Sadly, it didn't seem to be going anywhere to I scraped it in favor of this current story line.

Hey, listen, if you're really feeling masochistic enough to read it, I _might_ put up the alternative as chapter 2. Don't know about that yet.

Until later . . .Bye!


	2. Chapter 2

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**Disclaimer:** Again, I repeat myself-**I OWN NOTHING HERE!** _Harry Potter_ and all related characters, settings, materials belong to J. K. Rowlings and any associates that may have a legal claim to her creation. Joss Whedon and his group own _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_ and all related characters, materials, and settings.

Once upon a time, I threatened to release the rejected version of the first chapter on unprotected, unprepared minds. And, here it is-**Bwahahahahaha!**

Actually, I had nothing else to currently put up, the next chapter still under construction. But I thought fans of this story could have a little something to chew on while they're waiting for an update.

So, don't blame me if it's bad-Remember now . . .it's a reject for a reason.

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Rejected!

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REJECTED!

**

The day started off as a completely normal day. For starters, sunlight had somehow managing to slip past her eyelids, while her ears rang with an abominable, but oh so familiar, noise. Buffy woke up to the sun lighting up her bedroom, and her surviving alarm clock ringing away. After a Slayer glare at the offending device, and oh, so gently, pressing down on the off button, Buffy grudgingly got up, stretched, yawned and padded off to the bathroom, emerging refreshed and clean with a previously missing bounce to her step. Her clothing, hair and makeup followed-Buffy took a few minutes to decide on accessories-Coordinating everything with her shoes, naturally. Afterwards, Buffy hurried downstairs, greeted her mother, Joyce, and vacuumed up her breakfast and dashed out the door with a cheerful, "See you later, mom!"

The rest of the school day was predictable-She met up with Willow and Xander, endured Cordelia's snark and the Cordettes' sneers. Snyder the troll predicted a dim future and rained his usual contempt on her and just about everyone else. The classes? Hmmm, Buffy admitted sleeping through many of them. Good thing Willow was willing to share her excellent class notes. Later, Xander expressed his love for The All Great Twinkie. Complete with grand expansive gestures and, ewww, loving caresses. When he planted loving gentle kisses on the soft, yellow pastries before biting into them, somehow, for some reason, his behavior reminded Buffy of the new lipstick she was planing on buying-Kind of expensive, but beauty costs and all of that. Giles was in his library and said stuff-Buffy was certain of it . . .only, all Buffy could recall was that it sounded like, "Waah, blah, waah, Buffy, waah, blah, waah, Buffy."-But with a really tweedy accent.

She stretched the school day with Giles, taking a turn at pounding her Watcher into a painful daze during a sparing session. Then leaving the older man to nurse his battered ego and bruises, Buffy contently strolled down the school's empty corridors, the sounds her shoes were making echoed in the emptiness (That reminded Buffy; she had to learn the name of the newest school custodian. Happily, unlike his predecessors who usually ended up in the back dumpster, either whole or in incomplete pieces, the last one had a sudden saving epiphany: He turned in his resignation and then turned himself in to the Immigration people for a free ticket back home.) Empty, that was, until she sensed _them_-Not Human, but not demonic either. Curious, Buffy waited for the attack she knew was coming. When the flying chair came hurling at her, Buffy lazily dodged it. The chair crashed into the wall behind her with a loud noise, taking chips of plaster out of the wall, Buffy smirked and tauntingly called out-"Is that all you got?"

Suddenly, a life size cardboard cut out of Snyder, wearing only a tiny, teeny, bright red speedo, and a biiiig smile on his face, appeared in front of her!

Buffy froze in disbelieving wide burning eyed horror!

_Oh, God! Nooooo!_

_*Thump-thwack!*_

And that was when, Buffy's traumatic moment was abruptly, and thankfully, cut off by an unknown object forcefully and painfully connecting with her head.

It was a baseball. She was hit by a thrown baseball. Buffy came to that conclusion when she regained painful, head throbbing consciousness. Her eyes remained closed, but she felt the thick weave of the rug beneath her, the uneven ground and twigs and stones the rug was attempting to cushion. The cold wind dancing on her skin betrayed the presence of the living forest around her in the form of scent and sound. It also explained that she was not in Miller's Woods; Buffy knew Miller's Woods intimately, and hated the dark, twilight, literally haunted, place. Buffy knew its sinister sounds and fetid smells-Wherever she was, it was someplace far from the Pacific Ocean and Californian desert; where fresh, wholesome, cold air threaded itself through trees and brush. And, aside from the unfamiliar, alien company surrounding her, Buffy senses told her it was demon free-Ugh, that was new.

It was a baseball . . .Yep, yep, Buffy was fairly certain of it, jumping back to her earlier musings. She should know . . .she had experience. Over time she had been struck in the head by baseball bats, fence posts, two-by-fours, assorted and miscellaneous types of timber; pipes, wrenches, tools . . .the occasional mannequin arm . . .Hell, Buffy considered with some humor, having a thick skull could sometimes be a good thing!

In some ways, Buffy reflected stoically, keeping her eyes closed and feigning unconsciousness, and ignoring the clawing pain of her headache, the day had been fairly typical and normal for her. Up to and including getting knocked out and tied up. Buffy carefully tested the ropes' strength, and came to the conclusion, based on the irritating prickling teasing her Slayer senses, that they were magically enhanced. Normal rope would have stretched at her experimental tugs.

Buffy's spidey senses warned her she was surrounded at all sides by twenty or so of Whatever-They-Were. She kept her eyes closed.

"M-M-Mistress Buffy awake?" The high pitched, squeaky voice sounded somewhat familiar. Buffy was abruptly left wondering where she had heard that type of voice before. "P-P-Please, Mistress Buffy . . .W-We need to talk, and there's not much time." The Voice pleaded.

Buffy's eyes popped open and she regarded the wrinkled little creature, cringing next to her. It had big, wide terrified eyes, and big wide pointed ears, and thin, spindly arms and legs-And oh, it was dressed in a pillowcase.

A House Elf! Buffy's Halloween memories rose up providing identification of the thing. Slytherin's paranoia unexpectedly shot up and started screaming panicked alarm-Never trust them! They were secretly trying to take over by stealing socks and making their victims think they were crazy! Buffy paused at that point, suspecting an interesting story there, but, meh, decided not to pursue it. Still, letting on that she knew _what_ it was might not be of the good. Soooo . . .

Buffy narrowed her eyes at it. "So get with the explainy already!" The creature looked confused and uncertain. Buffy felt like sighing in exasperation. "Talk! Tell me who you are, what you are, and what you want!" She snapped out at it.

To Buffy's shock the creature fell to it's knees and began wailing!

Her Halloween memories assured Buffy that what the wrinkled, ugly little creature was doing was perfectly normal for his species. And thus, saved her from her own mini panic attack-And feeling like a complete bully and heel. In between cries of apologies and sobs, it finally stuttered out, "I-I is Dobby, Mistress! House elf to Masters Malfoy! Dobby wants Mistress to save Harry Potter! Poor Harry Potter dies if Mistress don't save Harry Potter!"

Buffy blinked-And she blinked again. "Okaay, you want me to save some guy-?" She asked, uncertain.

Dobby wailed. "No _guy_, Mistress! _Baby_ Harry Potter! Baby Harry Potter in terrible danger!"

"Oh," Buffy looked thoughtful. _Baby, huh, this could get interesting_. "First, could you mind untying me, please? Since we're making with the talking and not fighting it's really, really uncomfortable. And, hey!" Coming to the realization, she suddenly demanded angrily. "Why did you attack me in the first place, if all you wanted to do was ask for my help? And did you guys pulled me in through a portal? 'Cause I have to tell you, I feel portal energy residual on me." _NOT! She was guessing-But even a small advantage could pay big dividends later-Or completely screw her over. Meh, like this situation, she just had to wait and see how things played themselves out._

The house elf violently trembled. "W-We, Dobby, not know if Mistress help us or not. Goblins say Slayers violent, attack Dobby, attack House Elves on sight."

Buffy gasped!

"That is . . ._Slander!_" Buffy hissed in outrage, glaring at the cowering Dobby. "I don't know what these goblin people of yours are-But I'm not that type of Slayer!" Well, _hell yeah_, she knew what Goblins were. Salazar Slytherin's memories were detailed and precise when it came down to magical creatures: especially those beings and species with Human traits and qualities. Or had larders filled with butchered Human bodies-One of the reasons they kept going to war in the first place.

Her Slayer part placed them as Rivals and Predators of the Human species, and thus, dangerous to Humanity and its interests. Buffy made a mental note to do a spot check on them later.

Dobby took one brief look at the obviously homicidally enraged Slayer and the small being squeaked, "Eep!" and folded into a terrified lump, convinced those _evil_ emotions playing on the blonde female's face were directed at him! His big ears violently quivering and his entire body shaking with fear. He seemed to be trying to melt into the ground.

Buffy felt her resolve wavering in a wave of remorse-Her Slytherin part hissed in alarm and annoyance. She had to remind herself that House Elves were _evil_ little buggers intent on, on . . .Well, _Something_! What that something was remained hidden-But Buffy was confident she could eventually find out what the little none demony things were hiding, and stop them! Yep, yep, Buffy was confident in her ability to create a cunning way to find out their Big Secret, expose them, and then deal with them in her usual Slayer self! But first, she had to lose the ropes . . .

"Okay, I'll forgive you this time," Buffy magnanimously declared-Her green eyes wide and sincere, her smile bright and toothy. "Just untie me, and I'll forget our little misunderstanding, okay?"

Big, tragic eyes, pooling with unshed tears, suddenly cleared and widened in happiness. "At once, Mistress Buffy!" Dobby eagerly said. He snapped long fingers and the ropes binding Buffy disappeared.

_Sucker!_

She jumped up to her feet and stabbed an accusatorial forefinger at the poor, startled, house elf.

"You are not sticking me with _cloth_ nappies!" Buffy snarled. "Understand this . . .If I'm going to be traveling with a baby, with most of the magical community out and about hunting for him," (_And damn if it isn't likely that for most of them, this is probably the first real bit of exercise they've ever gotten in their lives!)_ "I won't be able to use any of the convenient baby care spells or products normally used to keep baby's bottom fresh, clean and rash clear." Hey, there was always a possibility _someone_ might wise up enough to sent out a wide area detection spell, and pick up on the residual energies of multiple low level Apparation spells. They _seem_ simple, but the precision and detail of those spells make them stand out (No one out to change a dirty diaper wants to make the _baby's_ bottom disappear too, do they?). After that, they would have to go door-to-door and personally eyeball the situation to eliminate each suspect. Then again, they would have to apply common sense and actually _think_ to do that. "That means buying things like ordinary disposable diapers, wipes, and whatnot. You guys are going to provide all that stuff-Oh, and change those diapers on occasion, too, Mister! Is that clear?"

The howl of personal misery that unexpectedly poured out of the little creature was really . . .irritating. A shell-shocked Buffy decided.

"Dobby sorry! Dobby sorry!" Wailed the distraught House Elf, wringing his long fingered hands in frantic distress. "Dobby will get muggle diapers and things! Dobby will change Master Harry's diapers! Dobby will-!"

"Okay! Okay!" Buffy hurried to calm the distraught House Elf; she had a panicky idea of what Dobby was going to say he would do, and did not want the Dobby to confirm it for her. "First things first . . .Tell me everything about this baby; this Harry Potter."

Sally respected the Goblins, even if they were nasty little buggers, but at least they were upfront and honest about themselves and what they wanted. But she was thoroughly suspicious and paranoid when it came down to the House Elves. Dashing through Sally's information on the small beings, Buffy had to agree there was something off about them.

Her inner Slayer agreed with Sally, they buzzed her spidey senses.

_Meh, can't find out what their secrets plans are if I'm shouting my suspicions at them_, Buffy reasoned. Okay, it was time to go along with the _alleged_ bad guys, and see what the what was.

**

THE END

**

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See? It was weird and it had too many holes in it-And, honestly, ordinarily that alone wouldn't have stopped me from putting it up (I revel in weird, and holes can be filled in), but it wasn't going anywhere. At least, I didn't think so.

Anyway, for those readers who are waiting for an update to the main story, it's going to be a while before I can get back to it-Sorry about that.

As for this portion of this story, it's as complete as it's ever going to get. A big, fat, The End for it. Goodbye, and thanks!


	3. Rooftop Confessions

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything here! _Harry Potter_ and all characters, settings, and associated materials belong to J. K. Rowlings. Joss Whedon and his group own _Buffy The Vampire Slayer._ **I OWN NOTHING HERE!**

The second chapter is short. I'm sorry about that, but as a Halloween fic, I thought to get it out before or on Halloween. Hopefully, I'll be able to put up the third chapter sooner rather then later.

Anyway-On to the story!

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Harry meets the most famous Dark Lord of all.

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Rooftop Confessions

Roaring jet engines overhead momentarily overwhelmed the booming street sounds rising up from the busy London thoroughfare currently under the sharp eyes of an irritated and discontented little blonde Slayer.

Buffy Summers, from her rooftop perch, looked down at the time darkened, decrepit structure, glowing in full sunlight from the effects of dozens of layers of Charms and Wards-The sole reason the ancient edifice defied the natural laws of entropy and decay and remained sound and relatively upright. Scowling, Buffy silently reread the sign above the entrance-"_The Leaky Cauldron_."

The Slayer's hands rested on her cocked hips, her left hand's fingers thrumming in agitation. Her silent stare was interrupted by the sound of the Scoobies reentry into the conscious world.

"Oh, my back!" Xander moaned.

Buffy gave the small building a last disapproving glare and smoothed her face, before turning away and delicately walking back to the still proned teenagers. Although, they had collected their limbs closer to their bodies, the two waking teens kept their eyes shut tight; Willow curled up in a fetal position, whimpering softly. Xander scrunched up his face, and with another groan, flopped over to his side. Buffy cocked her head in concern-Her diagnostic spell claimed they were in good health, but could it be wrong?

With her teeth worrying her lower lip, Buffy quickly casted a wordless, wandless, diagnostic spell-A different one. But it showed the same results-Xander and Willow were in relatively good health.

Another whimper from Willow made Buffy wince. Could the relatively pain free awakening she had experienced be unique to her, and her condition as a Slayer? A hiss of pain from Xander had Buffy thinking that, maybe, that was the case.

Buffy squatted gracefully next to the stricken boy. "Xander? Uh, Xander?" She reached out a manicured fingertip and gently poked him in the shoulder. Xander flinched-"Ouchie!" he whimpered outloud, squeezing his eyelids tight. A moment before Buffy's finger could move to a poking position, Xander cracked one eye open.

"Buffy?" He tentatively asked, in a low, pained whisper.

"Yes, Xander?" Buffy smiled brightly.

"Did you get them?"

"Blew them up!" Buffy chirped.

Xander smirked in savage satisfaction, and said in a lighter tone. "Life is good then." He abruptly grimaced.

"Xander? Where does it hurt?" Buffy commanded, glancing over in deep concern at Willow's still curled up form, trying to recall the British emergency number-Was it 999? Did it exist so early in the 80's? Or, did she need to brace herself and haul her friends down to St. Mungo's? The explosion and their arrival _was_ magic related . . .

"Ah, choices, choices . . ." he murmured. "It kind of hard to choose here . . .Everything is kind of throbbing with eye popping pain-Including my eye balls!" Xander admitted with another pained grimace. "So, I think I'll go with-It hurts everywhere! Ack! Although, the pain's fading away, and not as bad as when I woke up, it still hurts. Buffy, I feel like I've been squeezed through a long, long, narrow straw." With his eyes closed, Xander missed Buffy's slight start. "And Willow . . .? Where's Willow?"

"She's okay, Xander." Buffy gently reassured him. "She's right next to you-Although, once she's fully awake she's likely to experience what you're going through, right now."

"Ah, crap!" Xander breathed out.

"You'll be okay, right?" Buffy asked.

"All of the good, here!" Xander piped up with a grin. He turned serious. "Go-go see to Willow. I'll be okay, Buffy."

With a light pat on his shoulder, Buffy rose up and quickly crossed over to Willow.

Buffy peered down at Willow with a concerned frowned on her face. She noted Willow tightly scrunched up face and the tremors that shook her body. "Can you hear me, Willow?" Buffy said, softly.

The small whimper escaping from the other girl, Buffy took as a yes.

"Willow, Willow, listen to me," Buffy urged. "I'm so sorry. But, I don't have anything with me to make the pain go away. You'll have to ride it out-But in a little while, if you want me to, I'll take you and Xander to-to this hospital . . .They'll take care of you there."

A muffled, timorous voice answered back. "I-I hear you Buffy. And, and the pain is going away by itself . . .S-so you don't have to worry about taking us to this hospital of yours."

Buffy sat back on her hunches in slight relief. "Alright, Willow . . .But if there is a problem, don't hesitate to shout out for me."

Under her eyes, Willow's body slowly relaxed as the pain subsided. A few feet away, Xander was rocking his body trying to gain a sitting position. Buffy thought about going over to help, but decided the other teenager might resent that move on her part-After the Larry incident, Buffy had become a slight bit more sensitive to her male friend's ego. Would helping him sit up be a problem? She considered in confusion. Meh, Buffy decided to allow Xander to settle his own business, whatever way he liked to. Guy Code thing, right?

With a lot of effort, Xander finally made it to his knees. With a panting crawl, he half dragged his overly bright body next to his girls. "Xander," Willow murmured, without opening her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Xander smiled fondly down on his best friend. "Yeah, Wils . . .Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing."

Willow slowly, cautiously cracked open one eye. With great care she opened the other eye, and wrinkled her nose, grimacing. "I, I think I'm better." With a sigh, she uncurled and shifted positions. She was lying on something very uncomfortable and she was cold.

Buffy helped Willow into a sitting position. Grateful, Willow leaned into the other girl's warmth.

Xander slowly nodded his head, tension easing out of him; he stared at Buffy curiously. "Um, Buffy where are we? I don't think we're in California-For one thing . . .that Sun is too dim, too far up, too cool. And-" Xander sniffed the air. "It doesn't smell the same . . ."

Buffy nodded once. She looked up at the sky, twin contrails revealing the presence of highflying aircraft. The one Buffy began following with her eyes had a small dot at its head. Her Slayer eyesight giving her better details of the airplane then a normal Human's unaided eyes ever could get. _Stalling, much?_ Her sarcastic inner voice demanded. The confession Buffy was hoping to avoid, or at least postpone for a while longer, was at hand.

_Well, get on with it!_ Prodded that annoying, _impatient,_ inner voice of hers. Buffy returned her eyes back to the other teenager in front of her. Xander's brown eyes stared back with curiosity and anxious anticipation. Buffy noted the trust in there, and felt a heavy weight sinking to the bottom of her stomach, she suddenly heard herself blurting out-"Harry's London, England!"

Silence-Silence broken only by the wind, and the machine noises of a large city in motion.

Xander gaped at Buffy in confusion. He shook his head, and blinked twice, cleared his throat and asked, "Um, excuse me . . .Run that by me again. Harry's Whatsits now?"

"Me too," Willow murmured against Buffy.

Buffy drawled out slowly, "We. Are. In. Harry. Potter's. London. England."

Xander blinked at her again. "I hear you talking, but I'm still not getting it."

Buffy sighed, she really, really hated to bring up the memory of the last TV marathon Xander forced them to watch-But it was an emergency. "Okay, in Star Trek . . .remember the episode where Spock had a beard?"

Again there was that silent, frozen pause, where the only things heard were the sounds of rising street traffic, combined with wind, humming air conditioning units; thrumming, whooshing sounds from other active roof machinery and Human breathing.

Sudden recognition lit up Xander's eyes and face. "W-we're in Harry Potter's Universe? The-Boy-Who-Lived? Wand waving, kid wizard, flying-on-a-broomstick, Harry Potter?"

"Yep." Buffy nodded.

Xander suddenly froze in mid inhalation. "Hey, wait . . .How do you know we're in Harry Potter's Universe?"

"'Cause I spotted _The Leaky Cauldron_ over there," Buffy waved her free arm behind her.

With a sudden, unexpected explosion of movement, Xander seemingly ignored the pain of gravel digging into his hands and knees and eagerly dashed in the general direction of the waving arm!

"Whoa!" Buffy grabbed Xander's Hawaiian shirt in a fist of steel as he passed her (her educated sense of touch, telling Buffy the fabric was rayon): Absently she noted Xander seemed to be getting stronger-_He must be working out_, Buffy thought. The sudden movement eliciting a surprised "Eep!" from Willow as Buffy jerked to the side, depriving her of a solid support! A momentarily confused Willow wondered why her view had so radically tilted-_Oh,_ She realized with some relief, _it's just Buffy and Xander . . .er, what are they talking about, again?_

"Hold on! Hold on! In your condition, you'll likely fall over the side!" Buffy gently chided. "And I guarantee you, it's a waaaay long trip down!"

"But-!" Xander strained-And suddenly felt a world of alarmed as the pressure around his shoulders and armpits increased; Xander could see in his mind, the horrifying image of his vintage Aloha shirt ripping. He eased back carefully.

"We'll see it later," Buffy promised. She took a breath. It was time, the rolling ball of acid in her stomach was telling her. "But I've got better, safer proof-of sorts."

She reluctantly let her fistful of Xander's brightly colored shirt go and sat back. Her heart beating faster in apprehension, Buffy acted-With a barely noticeable twitch of her wrist, her wand slid down the holster and into her waiting hand. Buffy swished the tip in the air and watched her friend's face as the bright green and silver streamers and ribbons of light burst out of the wand tip.

_Wide open mouth . . .Wide frozen eyes . . ._Buffy noted. _Oh, goodie, I've got his attention._

"Huh, huh . . .Ah . . .Oh, wow."

_And Willow's too._

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So slooowly it creeps . . .Bwaaaaahhhhaaaahhhh! :)

Thanks for your patience-And thanks for reading this fic! Have a safe Halloween! Bye!


	4. Do Great Danes Sneak Like Snakes?

**Disclaimer:** Why bother asking? **I OWN NOTHING HERE!** Joss Whedon and his people own all characters, settings, and materials related to _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. _Harry Potter,_ and his magical Universe, happens to be the direct creation of J K Rowlings. **IF YOU RECOGNIZE IT, IT'S NOT MINE!**

Stating the obvious . . .Here's the fourth chapter in my crossover. I hope you enjoy it.

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A Cunning Snake Revisited

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DO GREAT DANES SNEAK LIKE SNAKES?

Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, was a such good, _normal_, place to live, a satisfied and contented, Petunia Dursley nee Evans reported to the stranger sitting in her immaculate and painfully normal living room. Normally, Mrs. Dursley, a tall, thin, blond, with a face resembling a horse, and a too long neck, at that time of the morning would be spying on the neighbors, by stretching her too long neck high enough to peer over the privacy fence separating the properties.

However, that morning, her neighbors were spared her attentions by the sudden, and unexpected, appearance of a young woman at the door, with a survey questionnaire in hand, promising payment of a hundred pounds for her participation in the survey. Petunia, always willing to share her opinions (payment not withstanding), quickly seized the unfortunate visitor and pulled her inside.

Sitting on the flowery print sofa, an untouched cup of tea on the low table in front of her, was a young red haired American woman, who was currently attending to a minor bite on her leg, given to her by a chortling Duddidums. An injury sharing space with over a dozen darkening bruises on the legs of the quietly whimpering red head. Upon first espying the visitor, Dudley had entertained himself by kicking, and poking, at the legs of the visiting young woman; somehow managing to score hits despite her attempts to avoid the energetic, and curious child. Duddy had been somewhat distracted by the plate of biscuits Petunia had laid out for her visitor, crumbs and partly chewed, gooey chunks on the carpet around the baby. The sweet little baby had grown three additional new teeth, and liked to bring attention to them in the most direct way possible. Oh, what a clever little baby! Petunia mentally cooed, giving her dear little man a loving and indulgent smile. Her attentions returning to her slightly injured, and distressed guest.

"Um, ouch, um . . .Yes, um, yep, Mrs. Dursley, that, that was the last question in our survey!" Squeaked the young American, forcing a wavering smile on her lips, her green eyes somewhat frantic. "Thank you for participating, and having me in your lovely home!" She reached into her briefcase, and withdrew a transparent, plastic envelope, with a hundred pounds in it. "And here is your hundred pounds-Thank you again! Just sign the receipt here . . .And I'll be on my way!"

Petunia accepted the clipboard, and after quickly confirming it was just a simple receipt, she signed and graciously accepted the transparent envelope, exchanging it for the clipboard, ignoring the shaking hand that accepted it. As the red head quickly put away the clipboard, Dudley, sitting on the floor, emitted a happy squeal, and a loud "Shan't!" and threw one of his wooden blocks at the distracted young woman just as she turned her head!

"THUNK!"

Caught by surprise, the solid block of wood connected with the woman's ear with a surprisingly meaty sound-As expected, it was immediately followed by a shriek, then a low moan of pain . . .

Dudley laughed, clapped his pudgy hands together, and rocked on his diapered behind, as the grimacing, eye tearing, shaking, red headed woman grabbed her belongings with one hand, jumped up and ran out of the house crying out behind her, in a relief laced babble-"Thankyouverymuch!I'llletmyselfout!"

A moment of silence followed the slamming front door. Petunia blinked in surprise and murmured, a little shocked, "Well, that was odd . . .And rude. Even for an American, I suppose."

"Shan't!"

Petunia looked down at her Duddy, and smiled into his beautiful, round, laughing face. Now, she thought happily, what do I get my baby, Dudders, with the oh-so-well-earned, hundred pounds?

Willow Rosenberg dashed out of Number 4 with the same desperation and speed she usually only used to escape vampire and demon lairs. Adrenaline numbing the throbbing pains in her calf and ear, Willow slipped into a little park a few blocks away. She espied Buffy and Xander on the monkey bars, snacking from large white bags, with a huge, single, curling yellow 'M' on them. Too winded to speak, Willow waved the briefcase at them. They jumped off the monkey bars, Buffy still eating, and casually walked over to her and gently guided the trembling, out of breath teenager towards a park bench.

Xander waited until they were all seated before asking the panting, wheezing girl, his eyes on the tiny, bleeding bite mark on her leg. "Wils . . . What happened?"

"Dudley." Willow gasped out.

Buffy choked on her fries. "Willow! You got beat up by a baby?!"

"Not . . .a . . .baby! Freak . . . baby . . .something!" Moaned Willow. She gently touched her swelling ear, and winced in fresh pain.

Xander snickered. "Yeah, little Dudders always had a way with magical folks. Anyway, Wils, baby or not, Human bites are particularly dirty things. We better get that disinfected as quickly as possible. As for the ear," Xander peered at it. "We'll get some ice on it."

Buffy glanced around her. The park was still virtually empty, given the time of day. The only children there, where a few preschoolers, enjoying themselves in the sandbox at the other end of the park. Their caretakers sitting or standing nearby, their attentions focused upon their charges and nothing else.

"Actually, no need to wait . . ."

"_Heal!_" Buffy hissed softly.

"Eep!" Willow squealed, and jumped, startled. She stiffened and then relaxed as she touched her previously injured ear, and felt no pain or swelling. The same with the legs-The bite mark and bruises, along with the tiny amount of blood, had disappeared. Willow smiled at her friend. "Thanks Buffy."

Buffy smirked, gave a one-shoulder dismissive shrug, and said, "It's nothing."

The blond teenager then grinned, and held out one of the white bags. "I'll trade you-Yummy goodies in bag one, for boring, but important papers-."

"Deal!" Willow quickly exchanged the briefcase for the burger bag. She stared curiously at the logo on it.

"You're gonna love the stuff, Wils!" Xander grinned. "No Double Meat Palace in this world-Thank God! Instead, they have this double, golden arches place," Xander stopped, suddenly grimaced and shuddered. "And a red headed clown! And yet, in spite of that clear lapse in judgement in choosing a mascot, they make good burgers and fries-God! Their fries-! Wils, you've got to taste them!"

"Yeah, Wils. . .Fries good." Buffy said absently, the open briefcase on her lap, and the only important paper in it, clutched in her hand. She pulled out a handle folding butterfly knife from somewhere, and with a flick of her wrist, exposed the six inch, steel, blade and reconnected the divided, hollow, handle; and gently, with great care, scraped the blade's sharp edge against the side corner of the paper she was holding. The edge of the paper, on top of the contract Petunia had unknowingly signed, curled back. When there was enough of it for Buffy to grasp between her thumb and forefinger, she flicked her wrist, and made the knife disappeared.

Pulling away the rest of the paper, Buffy stared down at the signed document, and her lips curled back in an evil, little smile. There it was . . .Petunia Dursley's clear, and legal, signature handing over custody of her nephew, Harry James Potter, to three complete strangers.

"Oh, Pew-Toony, Pew-Toony," Buffy mocked, "Selling your nephew for only one hundred pounds-What would the neighbors say? Now, what would your husband say . . .If he ever found out just how cheaply you sold little Harry for? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk."

"Guys . . .We've got hours to go before our little package gets dropped off. Want to do a little extra shopping in Diagon Alley? Maybe detour at Knockturn?" Said Buffy, a wicked glint in her eyes.

The answering grins on her friends face had Buffy holding out her hand. It was immediately clasped by two other hands, and with a sharp '_CRACK!_' the three teenagers disappeared, leaving behind a silver brief case containing several pages of a worthless questionnaire.

**MUCH LATER, THAT NIGHT . . .**

"Good luck, Harry." Whispered the ancient wizard, to the tiny black haired baby in the basket. With those words, Albus To-Many-Middle-Names Dumbledore stepped away from the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive rejoining his two companions, confident in his plans for the future.

As three unusual individuals faded away in the dark, the streetlight on street returned to their previous brilliance. It was at that point that the nearby shrubs began to rustle and move-Abruptly, a figure of a dark haired, tall teenage boy stumbled out, tripped and sprawled out on the lawn. With slightly more grace then their friend, he was followed out their hiding place, by two other teenagers, a red haired girl and a blond girl. Both were wearing amused and indulgent looks on their faces.

"Ah-And, I meant to do that!" Xander's muffled voice called out. "Just, um, just checking for, for mojoed rocks and things, you know?" He coughed in embarrassment and hastily climbed up to his feet.

"Yeah, sure, Xan," Willow cheerfully said. The blond next to her snickered softly.

Together, the trio approached the doorstep and the basket on it. With looks of wonder and amazement on their faces, they stared down at the sleeping dark haired baby, wrapped in a blue blanket, clutching a letter in his little hand.

"There he is," whispered Xander in awe. "Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived!"

"A. K. A, Cannon Fodder, Human Meat Shield, Bait, Scapegoat-" Buffy recited dryly.

"Buffy!" Willow hushed the Slayer. "That's not nice. True, but not nice. But now, that's not going to happen-Is it? Okay, a last minute check-We have everything, right?"

Buffy patted her jacket pocket. "Airplane tickets, passports, diapers, ya-da, ya-da . . .Yep! Everything!" She chirped.

"Oh, good," relaxed the red head. She stared expectedly at her companions. "Um, yeah, we-we have to go now. You know . . .Somebody's got to pick up Harry?"

The trio darted apprehensive looks at each other.

Buffy took a step back. "Um, no, look-Wand, mojo, slayage? Yep! Baby? No! Just, no! Don't know nothing, nothing at all, about babies!"

Willow looked at her first best friend with big wide eyes. "Babies cry and barf on me," she confided. She shifted her feet nervously. "Xander? Didn't you use to babysit? Like a couple of months of ago, you took care of that six month old baby, and a few other babies about as young as Harry?"

Xander gaped. "Willow! You promised not to tell anyone about that!"

"Well, I didn't really tell-I just asked you! Not tell! Nope, not tell!" Willow insisted.

Xander rolled his eyes, and huffed in resignation. "Fine! But one of you ladies will have to hold him in the car-I have to drive, remember?"

Xander bent down, and slowly and carefully lifted little Harry Potter out of his basket. Adjusting the sleeping baby in his arms, Xander smiled down at the tiny face, and frowned at the still raw, scar on the boy's forehead.

"Don't worry, Xander. I'll deal with it the moment we get to somewhere private." Buffy assured him, peering over his shoulder at the baby. She cooed at Harry, "Can you say 'Aloha', hmm, can you?"

"Buffy, he's fifteen months old . . .You can teach him to say that later. Meantime, we have to get to the airport, remember?" Willow said, peering nervously about the street, and the darkened windows of the houses.

The other two nodded in agreement, and moved off in the direction of their parked rental car. From that point on, no magic was to be used to avoid the slightest possibility of being tracked.

Buffy paused, and looked back at the abandoned basket with its subtle tracking charm hidden within its weave. For a moment, a slight moment, Buffy was tempted to lifted up the charm and stick it on one of the animals she sensed in the area. Something to drive Dumbles crazy.

Then the moment passed, and Buffy acknowledged that a clean getaway was better to have then a cheap, petty bit of vengeance.

With a smirk, and a finger salute at Number 4, Buffy turned around and bounced off into the night. Leaving behind an empty basket, and a soundly sleeping, and gratefully still normal, thank you very much, Dursley family.

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**Disclaimer: **The _McDonald's_ brand name and logo, not to mention products, belong solely to the McDonald's corporation. **I DO NOT OWN IT.**

Alright, the guys have Harry. The Dursleys and Dumbledore are happy and contented-For a while yet. The latter hasn't discovered his weapon's missing, and hasn't confronted the former about it, yet.

Where are they going? Buffy gave out a _huge_ clue there-Anyone could guess their destination.

Does Harry go to Hogwarts in ten years time? Don't really know yet. If he's still with the Scoobies, they'll try to stop him from going. Regardless of how grand and impressive an edifice Hogwarts is, it's one incredibly dangerous place for Harry. And in reality, there isn't any legitimate reason for Harry to attend that school.

For example:

Remove the Dursleys, and Harry has no reason to escape to Hogwarts. Getting to know about his parents, as an excuse to get him to Hogwarts? Well, the real sources of information about his parents are outside the school. People like neighbors, play- and schoolmates, non-Hogwarts teachers and tutors, distant family members, work mates and employers; documents that include everything from medical- school records, work stubs, to tax records; work resumes, to employee evaluations; shared, common photographs, like school photos and class photos.

Knowing Willow, Harry has a good chance of being inundated with information about his parents. Getting to know them in an in-depth way Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted him to. So that excuse to get Harry to Hogwarts is out.

Harry's Magical education? Would the Scoobies allow Harry's education, either in the mundane or magical, to suffer? Especially with Willow, and what is essentially a magically reincarnated Founder, there for him?

Anyway, if I decide to skip ahead ten years, I'll have to find a good reason for Harry to attend Hogwarts.

Have to go. Thanks for reading, and good bye!


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